


we sleep but we don’t dream

by atlantisairlock



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018) RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cute, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, Oblivious, Sleep, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 22:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15350517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock
Summary: AKA Five Times Cate Falls Asleep On Sandra & One Time They Both Do.





	we sleep but we don’t dream

**Author's Note:**

> for **loumillerlesbian** \+ my discord pals **akuma, debbieoceansjawline, gaylien25, heistboundbabes, loumillersjawline, sultrysweet & thegreenwomanswalkman**, who asked for: you know how cate said that she can fall asleep anywhere? so basically cate falling asleep on sandy & whatever that might lead to. 
> 
> usual rpf disclaimers - none of this is real, no disrespect is meant, suspend reality, they're all single in this fic, etc. i know jack all about filming i've only ever been on one film set in my life so... yes.
> 
> title from 'good liars' by blajk.

Everyone thinks Cate is kidding about being able to fall asleep anywhere until she drops off in the middle of an actual conversation by the crafty table and nearly topples over flat on her face. She just manages to avoid cracking her head open when Sandra catches her by the shoulder and pulls her in to steady her. “Holy shit, Cate, what the - did she faint? Did she just faint?”

Sarah glances over, still picking through the candy selection. “I think she just fell asleep.”  

“She just _toppled over_ onto me,” says Sandra. She’s still got her arms around Cate and she wonders for a second if they need a doctor or something when Cate lets out a soft huffing snore. Holy shit, she’s actually asleep.

“I told you so,” says Sarah. “Alright, she must be really tired. It has been a long day. We should get her back to her trailer.” 

“That is definitely not normal,” Fi declares once they get a couple hands to help Cate back into her trailer to get some rest. “That doesn’t happen unless you’re, like, narcoleptic. Oh my god, is Cate narcoleptic?” 

“She’s not narcoleptic,” says Sarah. “She did this a lot on the Carol set too. She’s just really good at blocking out all other distractions when she’s tired and shutting down to sleep.” 

A round of envious sighs rises around the circle. “I wish I could do that.” 

 

 

Sandra is prepared the next time it happens - well, more prepared than the previous time. At least this time they’re both seated and she doesn’t have to think fast and grab Cate violently by the arm to stop her from injuring herself. They’re running lines in Cate’s trailer, with Cate sprawled uncaringly out face-down on her bed and Sandra sitting upright, legs folded, a ways from where Cate’s head and script are. 

“So this is the bit when we’re in the restaurant,” Cate says, slurring a little, her accent coming through more than usual, the way it does when she’s drowsy. “And Lou’s like, even if we could pull this off, we’d need twenty people and a million dollars.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Sandra murmurs in reply, glancing through the script. “And then Debbie says _seven,_ and Lou thinks she means seven million, which is hilarious, I think, the way you’re supposed to say it. And then later on we have the bit where you say _why do you have to do this?,_ so I reply _because it’s what I’m good at._ Hey, why am I running your lines for you?” 

No answer, but something hard bumps against Sandra’s knee. She looks over her script to see Cate resting her head on her leg, eyes closed and evidently having drifted off while Sandra was talking, her cheek pillowed on her copy of the script. Sandra sighs, rolling her eyes, but fondly. Carefully, to avoid waking Cate, she works the script out of her hand and places both their copies on the desk. “Jeez, you’re the worst partner to run lines with.” 

Even as it comes out of her mouth it sounds affectionate. Cate doesn’t hear her, just keeps breathing evenly, fast asleep, and something kind of aches in Sandra’s chest, this weird feeling that goes as suddenly as it comes. 

She inches off the bed, slowly, planting her feet back on the floor and going to the door of the trailer, quietly exiting the way she came.

 

 

It’s the third day of filming at the Met itself and everyone seems to have disappeared during the supper call. Sandra is momentarily confused and spends five minutes peering in every nook and cranny of the set, trying to figure out where her co-stars have gone to.

“What are you doing?” Cate asks, after her third time pacing past the moat bit of the set.

“Looking for the others. Have you seen them?”

“Think they went to that blind spot corner,” she replies, getting off her chair and going to Sandra’s side. “Come on, let’s go see.” 

Cate turns out to be right - no surprise. The other six girls are curled up in what looks like a straight-up puppy pile in this dark corner in the kind of shot that would go into a blooper reel. Sandra sighs. “What are you six doing?”

“Napping,” says Mindy, yawning halfway through the word. “Who needs food when you can sleep?”

“Unless you brought snacks, in which case I will figure out how to get out from underneath these two sitting on me,” comes Anne’s muffled voice. 

Cate laughs, strolling over and pretty much flopping right onto the pile. “No snacks. But I’m going to join in. I’m fucking exhausted.” There’s a bit of shifting and grumbling as they make space for her to curl up. She finds a comfortable spot, then looks up at Sandra, grinning. “Joining us?”

Well, when in Rome. Sandra sighs again, trying to sound long-suffering, but goes over to Cate’s side anyway. Cate slings an arm around her waist and buries her face against her shoulder, closing her eyes. “Fifteen minutes before we get back to work.”

She drops off instantly, because she's  _Cate,_ but Sandra doesn’t - _can’t._ For some reason her brain is on overdrive, even though it’s been the longest day _ever_ and her legs feel like lead. Cate’s so close, and so warm, and her face looks so relaxed, free of tension and worry. When she inhales she can breathe the subtle scent of her hair and the weight of Cate’s arm against her abdomen sinks like a stone. 

Sandra has the sudden overwhelming urge to reach up and card her fingers through her hair, to lean in and press her lips to her forehead, to - 

She clenches one fist tight, inhales deeply and exhales slow, uncurling her fingers one by one and closing her eyes. 

She can’t, she’s not - this is dumb. She doesn’t even know where this is coming from. Cate just - fucks with her head, sometimes, Cate makes her laugh and makes her think and challenges her but she doesn’t that with everyone, has that effect on everyone, and she thinks she’s just falling into that sphere of hers. It’s dangerous and she knows she has to stop.

She’s still awake when the rest of the crew creep around to giggle and shoot them for the blooper reel. Sandra plays up, gesturing expansively at the puppy pile and rolling her eyes, then poking Helena in the side so she yells and shoots up. It makes for a hilarious shot, and gets them all awake, eventually. 

They get back to work, running their lines, filming their scenes, and it keeps her sufficiently distracted so she stops thinking about it. 

 

 

They’re lounging around in the warehouse set while the crew sets up the lights and cameras, and it’s actually really comfortable. Sandra thinks she would actually live in here - it’s nice. Cate and Rih agree with her; the others definitely do not.

“This couch is scratchy as hell,” Sarah whines, shifting irritably on it. “I swear, I’m just going to sit on the carpet with Mindy.”

“Carpet’s worse,” Mindy quickly replies, wincing. “Ugh, I just want to catch forty winks before we start.” 

Rih leans back where she’s monopolised one of the armchairs, closing both eyes and lounging happily. “You just have to learn from Cate. Block it all out and sleep.” 

“So right,” Cate says, preening a little. She stretches out on the sofa, propping her legs up on Sarah’s knees and dropping her head onto Sandra’s lap. All the breath leaves her lungs, and for a second, Sandra isn’t sure where to put her hands. Sarah yelps, prodding Cate in the calf. “Get your feet off me, Blanchett.” 

It’s too late - Cate’s already drifting off with a grin on her face, her breathing deepening in a matter of minutes. Helena groans. “How _does_ she do that?”

“Maybe it’s Sandy’s lap,” Anne grins, backing up so she leans against the sofa and rests her cheek against Sandra’s knee. “See? You’re comfortable, Sandy.” 

Laughter ensues, with everyone crowding over onto the couch and clamouring for some space. It’s a little chaotic and cramped but Cate just keeps napping right through it, tranquil rest untouched, looking perfect. 

Sandra doesn’t even realise what her hands have settled on doing until Fi pipes up, pushing her head against her left hand and making Sandra jump. “Hey, do me too! Why’s Cate getting special treatment?” 

“Do wh - “ She breaks off as she realises her right hand is absently stroking through Cate’s blonde locks, slow and leisurely and soothing. Her breath catches, and she stops abruptly. She feels Cate shift against her, letting out a muffled sigh, and for a second, everything just goes still. 

She has _never_ been so glad for Gary to call for filming to restart. Sarah shakes Cate’s legs off her lap, and Cate’s eyes fly open with an annoyed huff, but she gets up and blinks awake. They all get into position, and Sandra tries to ignore how hard her heart is beating.

 

 

There is a huge party on the very last day of shooting. They use the warehouse since it’s convenient and big enough to fit a lot of people. The food and booze flow easily and everyone’s laughing, whooping, enjoying themselves, celebrating the end of a journey.

And what a journey indeed. Sandra thinks she’s going to miss this. The atmosphere of the shoot has been amazing - everyone being so kind and supportive and positive, especially her co-stars. She feels a slight twinge in her chest at the thought of them going back to their lives, after this. She’s pretty sure they’ll still keep in touch and still be friends and they’ll see each other for the press tour, but - still. It always feels like losing something, a little bit, and this is no different.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says, a familiar body dropping down onto a chair beside her. “Why are you sitting here moping? It’s a party.” 

Sandra smirks at Cate as she passes her a beer. “I’m not moping.” 

“Please. Totally moping, I know you,” Cate snorts. She clinks her own bottle to Sandra’s, taking a long drink. “Too tired to dance around and chat, huh? Same here.”

“Sure,” Sandra retorts, rolling it off her tongue slow and playful. “When you want to be, you’re the Energizer Bunny on crack. And when you don’t, you just hit the switch and boom, you’re dead to the world.” 

Cate does not disagree, just flops exaggeratedly against Sandra’s side. “You’re so right. I’m going to do just that, right now.”

“What, and trap me here? If you’re sleeping on my shoulder how am I supposed to move?”

“As if you’d want to,” Cate yawns, closing her eyes, and okay, strict truth, that. Sandra swallows hard as Cate tucks her head against her shoulder, drifting off, her breath warm against Sandra’s jaw. Slowly, carefully, tentatively, she moves her arm to wrap it around Cate’s shoulders, pulling her closer so they can lean into each other. She can feel Cate’s even breathing, the rise and fall of her chest. 

The rest of the party seems to swirl around them, loud and bright and beautiful, just a little blurred beyond her reach. The one thing real and clear is Cate’s warm frame against hers, her gentle sighs of breath, and the thoughts in her head.

 _I’m going to miss you_ , Sandra thinks, and it hits her like a lightning strike - blinding, sudden, electric. She will miss this - this whole production, filming it, the process - and she will miss all the other girls, the cast and crew and everyone - but she’s going to miss Cate, most of all. Laughing with her, and pranking her, and running lines with her, and having Cate fall asleep on her, looking so peaceful, so purely content. 

“I’m going to miss you,” she repeats, out loud this time, but still under her breath, hoping to god Cate doesn’t hear her, because there’s so much more she wants to say than that but doesn’t dare. She’s fallen for her co-stars before but _never_ like this, and she has no idea how to even deal with this, how to even begin -

 _This is the last time_ , she promises herself, focusing on the way Cate is pressed against her and burning it into her brain. _One last night, and I will let this go._

_I will let her go._

 

 

For months - _months_ \- everything is fine and normal and Sandra goes about her life as usual and it’s like absolutely nothing has ever changed, and then they get called back for the press tour. She takes one look at Cate again after so long, and it steals all the breath from her lungs. 

How she makes it through that first day, she will never know. It seems to pass in a blur, before they get back to the hotel, and everyone congregates in Sandra’s room to catch up on one another’s lives, to talk and laugh and drink. 

They all end up knocked out on her room floor, one by one, until it’s just her and Cate awake, by some miracle. It’s two in the morning when Sandra goes to clean up all the garbage strewn around and bag it up properly. Cate helps her, clearing everything into two neat bags for disposal in the morning.

“Surprised your eyes are still open, Blanchett,” Sandra teases. “Back on the set, you would’ve been flat on your back beside the six of them on the floor.” 

Cate gives her a quick smile in response, but there’s something in it that makes Sandra stop. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I - “ Cate breaks off, laughing softly and shaking her head as she sinks down onto the bed, staring at her. “I missed you too, you know.”

Sandra’s confused for a moment, and then it dawns on her - _oh._ “You heard me? That night, at the afterparty. I thought you were asleep.” 

“No,” Cate confesses, quiet. “I heard you, and - I wanted to reply. I wanted to tell you I’d miss you too. I wanted to tell you… a lot of things.” 

 _Like what?_ It lingers on the tip of Sandra’s tongue, but she just can’t muster up the courage to say it - here, in the AM hours, with the rest of the press tour ahead of them, in her hotel room with their six co-stars on her floor, fast asleep. Cate doesn’t push, just looks down at her feet. “You know, back when I was doing Carol - a lot of people thought I was sleeping with Rooney.” 

Something _burns_ in Sandra’s chest, something she still doesn’t have a name for, but stays there anyway. “Were you?”

Cate shakes her head. “She was dating Charlie. I wouldn’t have done that.” She looks back up, locks her gaze with Sandra’s. “But if she hadn’t been, I might have. I think I could have let myself.” 

Sandra works her jaw, manages to find her voice again, rough and ragged as it is. “Why are you telling me this?”

Cate laughs again, but this time it sounds more lost, more desperate. “I - I don’t know. Jesus, Sandra, I don’t know.” 

But Sandra thinks she might, just maybe. Moves away from the front door where she’s dumped the bags and towards Cate on the bed, sitting down beside her so their shoulders are brushing, she’s so close. Close enough to look her right in the face, close enough to bring one hand against her cheek, close enough to lean in and brush her lips to the edge of her mouth. Just the briefest contact, almost chaste. She can hear her own heart thundering beneath her ribs, her throat dry. 

“Was that okay?” She asks, haltingly, and Cate closes her eyes, this small smile inching across her face. She inhales, holds it, then slowly opens her eyes and looks back at her. “Yeah, just - just let me.” 

They kiss again, properly this time, Cate sighing into it, the room quiet but for the soft sounds of their mouths moving against each other’s, their rapid breathing. _Cate,_ Sandra thinks, _I’m kissing Cate,_ and shit, maybe it’s what she’s wanted since the start, since she first set eyes on this woman. And she’s still worrying, still hesitant, still terrified out of her mind, but god, nothing has ever felt this good, or right. 

Cate kisses slow and lingering, makes her feel like she’s melting into it. She leads, brings both of them further up the bed and lays them both down and stretches out against the length of her body. Keeps her hands in Sandra’s hair while they make out for what feels like hours, the time just slipping by while she’s lost in how good it feels. Her face is flushed when she eventually pulls away, eyes sparkling. “We should sleep. Long day tomorrow.” 

Sandra takes her hand, holding on. “Stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cate murmurs. “I spent all of filming falling asleep on you, I’m not about to change that up now.” 

And she can’t help it - that makes her laugh, loud enough that Cate lets out this giggle and presses her palm against her mouth. “Stop, the others are going to wake up.” 

They don’t, though, so Sandra just pulls her closer, as close as they can get, lets Cate tuck her head against the hollow of her collarbone. 

“That night, at the afterparty, I wanted to say more,” Sandra says, as she’s slowly falling asleep. “And I didn’t dare, I was scared. So I just looked at you, sleeping with your head on my shoulder, and I thought… one last time. I’d just let myself have you so close, and then hold on to that forever, and never ask for more. I would just let go.”

Cate doesn’t open her eyes, but tightens her arms around Sandra’s waist. “No letting go,” she murmurs, accent bleeding thick into her words. “You’re staying right here with me.” 

“Right here,” Sandra agrees, letting herself drift off in Cate’s embrace, and it feels like something has settled - like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle putting itself in place, like the snap of the clapboard coming down over the last scene, like everything is right in the world, and she’s safe, she’s home, for good.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimers: i don't own ocean's 8, etc. i don't know any of the cast personally. i don't profit from this fic; it's just for fun. this fic isn't meant to be in character or to represent anything happening in real life or whatever. no insinuations or disrespect meant towards any of the cast or their families or their respective spouses et al. everything i've written in this fic is FICTIONAL. for ENJOYMENT.
> 
> please for the love of god DON'T come to the comments section going off about how rpf is Disrespectful and Gross and Wrong and Weird unless you intend to comment the exact same thing on **every single** phan and one direction and hockey fic that exists on this site as well. it's annoying  & i will fight you.


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